Like God Brother, Like God Sister...
by Rivin Tarinius Majere
Summary: ~*~*Chapter Eleven is up*~*~ Sirius Black has a daughter; but what happens when she's nothing like him? What chaos can she bring to Hogwarts? First HP fic, tried to do it in charectar. Read and enjoy!
1. Chapter One

Like God Brother, Like God Sister…  
  
  
  
The day – or, rather, the night – before Harry Potter's first day of his fifth year started, he was lying in his bed, sleeping soundly; and why not? He certainly seemed to have earned it. After the hell of his fourth year, he had almost welcomed summer vacation – almost. Nothing was worse than spending time with his aunt, uncle and cousin. They seemed a bit…impersonal toward him – more than usual, that is.  
  
But, back to the tale this teller of tales was telling, Harry had been sleeping in his bed, anxiously awaiting his return to Hogwarts the next day. He had – blessedly – had no dreams that night, and awoke quite suddenly at the tapping on his window. Blinking tiredly, he got out of bed, groping for his glasses. Rubbing his eyes clear of night dust, he put the specs over his eyes, and looked automatically to the window. A great horned owl was perched outside, tapping on Harry's window. The fifteen-year-old boy hurried over to open the window, letting the owl flap in. He settled next to a cage on the desk in his room. Inside the cage sat the snowy white owl Hedwig. She gave the visitor a once over, then tucked her head inside her wing again, giving an annoyed chirp at having been woken up. The other owl settled its feathers, and held out a leg to Harry. There was a note attached to it. Eagerly, Harry took it from the owl's leg, and read quickly, then again, much more slowly.  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
Sorry for not writing; I've been a bit…busy, lately. I've so much to tell you, and no time to do it. Well, I guess the best way to start this is to plunge head first – Harry, I have a daughter. So I suppose that means you have a god sister, or something.  
  
But, that's not the whole reason I sent this letter. I'm sending her to Hogwarts. It's the best place for her to be right now. She's about your age; fifteen, right (Happy Birthday!!)? Anyway, she's entering her fifth year; from what I gather, she was previously in a wizarding school in Wales. She went for a few years; but she'll know enough to be fine in the fifth year. There's only one problem; she's a bit…odd. Harry, I've never taken care of anybody. I don't know what to do with her; how to talk with her, what to buy her. I've never been so confused. But I can't write much now; we need to move quickly. I'm putting her on the Hogwarts' Express tomorrow; don't try to look for me; I'm going to drop her off very early, so nobody will see me. They aren't searching as hard as they have been, but there's always the chance that someone might spot me.  
  
Her name is Fiona. She looks a bit like me; at least, originally. She's done some strange stuff. But her hair is black, sort of wavy, with strips of red. She's really short; she's fifteen, but she looks like she were anywhere from eleven to thirteen. But her face is really serious; she has one very blue eye, and one very green eye; it's really very strange. She's very pretty, but stubborn as anything.  
  
Harry, I guess the whole point of this letter is to ask you to help her out; she'd be mad if she knew I asked you, so don't say a word. She likes to do things her way, alone. Just look out for her. She…She might not end up in Gryffindor, though. I'm not sure, but there's just something about her…I don't know. Maybe I'm just tired. But you keep an eye out for her, will you? Introduce her to Ron, and Hermione; it's all right for them to know, but be careful around others; some people there will figure out whose daughter she is; Snape included. Watch out for him, all right?  
  
All right, hope to hear from you soon, Harry. Take care!  
  
~Sirius  
  
Harry read the note several times. He had a…a god sister? Sirius Black had a daughter?  
  
Harry sighed. It was too much to deal with so late in the night. He gave the guest owl something to eat and drink, then sent it on its way. Climbing back into bed, Harry's last conscious thought was: Sirius…a daughter…god sister… 


	2. Chapter Two

The Day Before  
  
"Here, Fiona. Here's the list, and some money. Just buy the things it says, all right? Nothing extra. Are you all right?"  
  
"Fine." Fiona said dismissively to her newfound father. "You better leave. I'll be fine. I know what to buy and where to get it. If you don't go now, they'll catch you. Go!" Sirius hesitated a moment longer, than turned into the huge black dog that was his Animagus transformation, and ran off. The short girl sighed, then turned toward Ollivanders.  
  
Walking in, she was immediately met by Mr. Ollivander himself.  
  
"Hello, hello," he said in a soft voice. "And who are you?"  
  
"Hello, Mr. Ollivander. I'm Fiona Black." The man's answer was to arch an eyebrow.  
  
"Black, hmm?" he said quietly. Fiona narrowed her eyes at him. For a moment, they just stared at each other. Finally, Mr. Ollivander found her mismatched gaze unnerving, and turned away. He took a tape measure, and asked her to put out her wand arm. She did, and he took her measurements, then turned to take a wand off of one of the thousands of shelves in his shops.  
  
"Right then, Miss Black. Try this. Oak, unicorn hair, twelve inches. Very sturdy. Give it a wave." Fiona did so. When nothing happened, Mr. Ollivander snatched it away and pulled out another.  
  
"Cypress, phoenix tail feather, seven inches. Willowy." Fiona waved this one as well. Nothing happened.  
  
Some half hour later, Mr. Ollivander paused in his search for a wand to stare curiously at Fiona.  
  
"I wonder," he murmured. "Hold on." He went to the very back of the room, and came back holding a very plain looking box. Opening it, he held out the wand inside to Fiona.  
  
"Try this. It's mahogany, dragon heartstring, thirteen inches. Sturdy, but willowy." When Fiona took the wand, she felt a strange essence surge through her. As she waved it, red sparks were emitted from the end of the wand.  
  
"That's it," Mr. Ollivander said. He placed the wand inside it's box. "Very interesting…"  
  
"What?" Fiona asked warily.  
  
"It's a new wand. The combination has never been used before. Take care of it."  
  
Fiona nodded, paid for the wand, and left the shop, leaving Mr. Ollivander staring after her murmuring, as he had done with one boy four years before, "curious, curious…" 


	3. Chapter Three

"Oiy, Harry!"  
  
Harry Potter turned in the King's Cross Station, looking for the tall read- head that the voice belonged to.  
  
"Hullo, Ron," he said amiably. "Ready to get on the train? There's something I need to show you." He dropped his voice. "It's about Sirius." Ron's eyes widened. He and their other friend Hermione Granger had been as deeply involved as Harry in the situation of Sirius' escape; they too worried about him.  
  
They both made their way quickly onto platform nine and three quarters, pretending to lean against the wall. As they passed through onto the right platform, they made their way quickly onto the train, grabbing the last compartment. They opened the window and looked outside, watching for Hermione. At last, she arrived through the platform. She looked around, and, seeing them, waved cheerfully. As she came closer, Ron dragged her into their compartment.  
  
"Hurry up," he growled.  
  
"What-" she started to protest as Ron pushed her in.  
  
"It's about Sirius," Harry said quietly. That shut her up. She stored her things and sat down, eager to hear the news. Harry handed them the letter he had received the night before. They read it in open-mouthed wonder.  
  
"H-he has a daughter? Seriously? And she's going to be in fifth year?"  
  
"I can't believe it," Hermione uttered. "I wonder who the mother is."  
  
"Well I'd like to meet her," Harry said. "I mean, wouldn't she be kinda like a…a god sister to me, or something?"  
  
"Well, I guess so," Hermione said. "Though it's certainly not a blood relation. I wonder when we'll see her," She wondered aloud.  
  
The three talked about Sirius' daughter, waiting as the train finally started to move. Their talk varied, turning to Hogwarts, and finally to Quidditch. Hermione sighed and buried herself in one of their new textbooks while Ron and Harry talked about flying and brooms. The thought of Sirius' daughter was almost gone from their minds. 


	4. Chapter Four

Fiona pulled her bag across the platform to get onto the Hogwarts Express. She didn't have any trouble getting to the right platform; Sirius had told her that bit.  
  
Now she looked up at the red and black train and sighed. It might be one of the best wizarding schools; but it was still just another school. Likely another school that would add more enemies to her tallies. She smiled ruefully; she had gone to three different schools before Sirius had finally found her. Two of them had been wizarding schools; she had spent her younger years at a muggle elementary school, finally going to the closest magical one when she was old enough.  
  
She hopped onto the train just as the last call was made. She walked through the small Aisle way looking for a free compartment as the train began to lurch forward, steadily gaining speed. She knocked on different compartments, being turned away at every query; it seemed the whole train was full. As she neared the end of the train, she came to a door from which sniggers were emitted. She knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for an answer.  
  
"Hey," she said by way of greeting. "Mind if I crash here for the ri-" she couldn't finish the sentence before one of the boys in the cart threw her a disgusted look.  
  
"Get out, you filthy mudblood!" The boy was rather handsome, with white- blond hair and blue-green eyes. Fiona arched an eyebrow at him; other than that, she made no reaction. The young man sneered; she must not know the meaning of the word; if she had, she would have gone pale, and rigid, made some reaction other than arching an eyebrow.  
  
"Do you not even know what it-"  
  
"Yes, I know what a 'mudblood' is, you fool. And it's only fitting for me to ask you politely to take it back." Her voice was calm, but her eyes glittered maliciously. The only thing she enjoyed more than provoking a person into a fight, was an actual fight. She got high on the adrenaline rush a fight always provided.  
  
"And the likes of you will make me apologize? By all means, do try." He nodded to the other two boys in the compartment stood up, towering over Fiona, who was far too short for her age. She quirked a smile, tilting her head to look first up at the two giants before turning back to the seated boy. He was sprawled out on a seat, watching her languidly. Her grin turned malicious. The boy looked surprised; it gave her a very devious, dark look. As if she was a seasoned fighter. Quickly, she stepped between the two mammoths coming to stand directly in front of the rude young man.  
  
"Yes. I will make you apologize, if I must. But I don't suggest it, unless you like to be rendered limb from limb." Her voice was calm, as well as her manner.  
  
"You'll do nothing. Get out of my compartment, you piece of filth." Fiona's face turned nasty; her fist snaked out to punch the boy in the nose. He didn't even realize it at first. As pain blossomed, he cried out and put a hand to his bloodied nose. Fiona smiled and dodged back out between the other, too-slow boys. Closing the door, she made her way down the aisle again. She smirked as she heard the boy's cries of pain.  
  
There were only a few more compartments left; still, they were full. Finally, she came to the very last of them. Knocking, she opened the door at the occupants' call to enter.  
  
"Hi," she said. "Do you mind? Everywhere else is full; really, they are. If you turn me down, I'll by bunking down in the aisle." A smile lit her face as she spoke. These people looked friendly enough; and there were only three of them, room for just one more.  
  
"Sure," one boy told her. He had messy black hair, and dazzling green eyes. Fiona smiled and pulled her trunk in. With the help of a tall red headed boy, she got her trunk stored. Then she sat down to introduce herself.  
  
"I'm Fiona, she said." She didn't see the look the three exchanged. She turned to the other girl.  
  
"I'm Hermione Granger," she said, holding out her hand. Fiona shook it.  
  
"Ron Weasely." That was the read-head.  
  
"Harry Potter." Fiona's eyes stayed with his a moment longer than she had the others. Thankfully, her eyes didn't make the usual journey to the place where his scar should lay. She smiled, and settled back into her seat, listening to them talk, occasionally adding something of her own. As the speech died down, Fiona started a new topic; Quidditch.  
  
"Do you play?" she asked the three. Hermione and Ron shook their heads, but Harry nodded.  
  
"Yeah, yeah I do. You?"  
  
Fiona nodded. "Yes, I love it. What do you ride?"  
  
"A Firebolt," Harry said proudly. "You?"  
  
"New model. It's called a Falca."  
  
"Falca? Never heard of it."  
  
"Shouldn't have. It's a Norwegian make. It came out shortly after the Firebolt. I saved for months to order it. But it's great; it responds to the slightest of commands, and is light as anything."  
  
"Wow. What position do you play?"  
  
"Seeker."  
  
"Me too." There was silence. As the moments ticked by, Fiona looked out the window. The skies were getting dark, and the compartment was silent. An earsplitting screech rocked the stillness of the compartment. Harry Ron and Hermione jumped up, searching for the disturbance. Fiona sighed, standing to reach the shelves holding her baggage. She had to rise on her toes in order to reach a thick cloth that covered a cage. Pulling it away, she revealed a glossy black…falcon.  
  
"What's that?" Hermione asked, interested by the bird's strange – but beautiful – appearance.  
  
"This is Cylix. She's my falcon."  
  
Her feathers were glossy in her prime, and as black as the darkest of winter nights. Her eyes were a fiery red orange. It was such a bright color that it seemed as if there was a sunset within the falcon's eyes.  
  
"She's bloody brilliant," Ron said admiringly.  
  
"I think the word's beautiful." Harry told him.  
  
Fiona smiled. "She doesn't like the cloth over her cage when she isn't sleeping."  
  
"I didn't know falcons were nocturnal," Hermione said skeptically. Fiona arched an eyebrow.  
  
"They aren't. Cylix was born with an eye problem. She's blinded by day, so that's when she sleeps. Like an owl." Fiona smiled again. "I had Cylix for a while. She's still young, and I didn't want an owl. So instead I trained her to take messages. It took a while, but it was well worth it." Ron glanced out the window.  
  
"Oiy, there's Hogwarts. We'd better pull our robes on." Quickly, all four of them pulled out their black robes, pulling them over their heads. As the call was given to disembark, they jumped off the train, leaving their luggage on the train; it would be taken up to their rooms later.  
  
After Hermione and Ron had gone off, Harry caught at Fiona's arm as she was about to jump. She turned with an eyebrow arched.  
  
"Fiona," he began awkwardly. "You never told us your surname."  
  
She hesitated a moment, then smiled. "Black. Fiona Black." Before he could reply, she leaped off the train, walking after Ron and Hermione.  
  
Harry smiled. So. This was his strange-eyed god sister. 


	5. Chapter Five

Note: Sorry it took a while, guys. :) But now at least she's in Hogwarts. So, do you like it so far? Huh? ;) Well, anyway, I was wondering…who do you think I should pair her up with? I have a few people in mind, but since you're reading it, I figure; why not ask them? So? Any comments?  
  
  
  
"I'd like to welcome you all back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Albus Dumbledore told the students once they were all seated in the Great Hall. Fiona had sat down with Harry, Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table for lack of anywhere else to sit. The first years had been sorted into their houses, which Harry quickly explained for her benefit. Once that was done, Dumbledore had risen to give a short speech, and, to introduce the new fifth year among their mists.  
  
"I'm sure that by now some of you have become familiar with our new student." His eyes twinkled merrily as he looked at the Slytherin table where Malfoy held a cloth to his bloody nose. "And I would like to bring her up her now to be sorted. So if you please, Fiona Black, come up and see where our trusty hat will place you!"  
  
Coolly, Fiona started toward the stool on which the old hat sat. Glancing around her, she made eye contact with one of the teachers. He wore a nasty look on his face, and stared at her with something just short of hatred. Annoyed, Fiona turned away.  
  
When she reached it, Dumbledore lifted the hat so she could sit, placing it on her head once she was settled. Her vision was obscured with the hat on her head. She got comfortable, not knowing what to expect.  
  
"Well, well, well." A small voice said in her ear.  
  
"Well what?" she thought back irritably.  
  
"Courage, yes, plenty of that. Brashness, too in quite a large amount. Loyalty to those who will help you, but too, a thirst for power and control. And a disconnectedness…I think I know just where to place you. SLYTHERIN!" The last word was yelled out over the crowd, and Fiona lifted the hat from her head, placing it back on the stool as she walked over to the table that had erupted with cheers at having a new student. As she passed the Gryffindor table, Fiona shrugged in Harry's direction. He looked at her curiously. Sirius had been in Gryffindor; why wasn't she?  
  
Fiona sat down next to a tall boy who looked to be in his sixth of seventh year; he towered above Fiona. Sourly, she noticed the boy she had punched sitting almost diagonal from her. She smirked and waved at him.  
  
The food appeared on the once-empty dishes that had occupied the table. Fiona arched an eyebrow.  
  
"Impressive," she murmured before helping herself to some food; she never ate much. It was probably the reason she was so damn short.  
  
When the feast was visit, Dumbledore reminded everyone that the forest on the grounds was forbidden, and that Quidditch tryouts would be held a week into the turn. Malfoy smirked at this. He had secured himself a place on the team two years ago, when his father had bought the House all Nimbus Two- Thousand-And-Ones. But he also saw the new girl smile out of the corner of his eye; what did she have planned? Did she actually think a girl could make it onto the team?  
  
When they were dismissed, Fiona evaded those of her new House and made her way over to Ron, Hermione and Harry.  
  
"Hey," she said. They smiled and waved, answering back.  
  
"So, I guess I won't be seeing you around."  
  
"Well, that's not completely true. What extra classes are you taking?"  
  
"Arithmancy and Care of Magical Creatures."  
  
"Oh, this is great," Hermione said excitedly. "I take Arithmancy; we won't be together, but at least I've someone to talk with." Fiona smiled back.  
  
"And Gryffindors and Slytherins have Care of Magical Creatures together," Harry offered. "And Potions." He pulled a face at it. "I hate potions."  
  
She laughed. "Who teaches it?" Know it was Ron's turn to pull a face.  
  
"Snape. Professor Severus Snape. What an absolutely wonderful man." His voice was dripping with sarcasm. "He's your head of house too," he added.  
  
"Lovely," Fiona commented. Turning, she saw the guy she had punched walk up.  
  
"Who is he?" she asked in a low whisper, nodding to the boy. Harry grimaced.  
  
"That's Malfoy." He took on a drawl that could only be Malfoy's. "Draco, Malfoy." Fiona laughed. She turned to face the guy she now knew as Malfoy as he approached. He looked down at her, then surveyed the three Gryffindors she was with.  
  
"You'll not want to be seen with that lot," he drawled. After hearing Harry's impression, Fiona was hard put not to laugh.  
  
"And why not?" She asked innocently, wanting to have an excuse to hurt him again.  
  
"Because they're Gryffindors." He spat the word out as if he was a piece of filth.  
  
"And your point is…?"  
  
"You should stay away from them."  
  
Fiona moved closer to Malfoy, tilting her head up so she could see his face. Her nose could almost touch his chin. Harry was surprised; he had taken the impression that Fiona didn't like this guy.  
  
"Tell me, Draco," she said softly. "Does your nose hurt? I'm dreadfully sorry about that," Malfoy arched an eyebrow. "I'm sorry it didn't hurt more." Pulling a sour look, she shoved him away from her. "I'll hang out with whom I want to." She turned to say goodbye to her friends, and started to follow the rest of the Slytherin crowd. Pausing, she turned to Malfoy again.  
  
"Tell me; do you play on the House team?"  
  
"Of course," he told her arrogantly.  
  
"What position?"  
  
"Seeker."  
  
"Don't expect to stay on the team after the tryouts." She turned and left, leaving Harry, Ron and Hermione doubled over with laughter. 


	6. Chapter Six

Fiona woke up the next morning in her cold dungeon dormitory bed. She had been surprised the night before when she had walked in to see seven four- poster beds lined against the walls in the room. They had green drapes that could be pulled closed for privacy. Stretching, Fiona crawled out of bed, rubbing sleep tiredly from her eyes. She pulled on her black robes over her head, putting on her lace up black boots, and tying her hair up in a messy bun, letting threads of red streaked hair fall over her face. The red accented her eye color - both of them. Looking around, she saw that all but two other girls were already up. Looking in a mirror to check her appearance, she climbed the stairs upwards to the common room. It was nearly empty, with most of the people having gone already to breakfast. Sighing, Fiona trudged up the stairs in the cold, bleak dungeon halls until she came to the turn into the main hallways. Following the sluggish flow of people, she found her way to the Great Hall. She waved to Harry as she passed, then took a seat along the Slytherin table. Grabbing a red apple, she bit into it, looking around as she ate. The ceiling was a reflection of the outside, light blue with fluffy white clouds making their way across. Seeing a schedule waiting on the table for her to see, she studied her classes. First was double Potions, then Charms, then Arithmancy, and Transfiguration. Taking a drink of water, Fiona stood and left the Hall, heading back towards the dungeons, to the place she thought to be the Potions class. In short order, she was completely lost. Growling in frustration, she turned and retraced her steps, heading back towards the main halls. Lucky for her, she bumped into Ron, Harry and Hermione, who were also on their way down to the Potions room. With them to guide her, they eventually ended up outside the right room, waiting for their teacher to come. He showed up quickly, opening the doors and walking in to take his seat at the desk in the front of the room. Automatically, Fiona headed toward the back of the room. She sat at a table in the very back, with her Gryffindor friends at the table across from her. She frowned a little when Draco Malfoy walked in and sat at her table, along with the two large boys he had sat with on the train and at breakfast. "Hi," Draco said. She swiveled her head to look at him with dull eyes. "What do you want?" she asked, aggravated. "I thought we got off to a bad start. And that perhaps we could try it again." She studied him for a moment, then smiled sardonically. "I don't believe in second chances. You screw something up once, why should get the chance to screw it up again?" "Because I asked nicely. Besides, don't you think it would help to befriend somebody of your own House?" "If everybody else in Slytherin is like you, then I think I'm going to have to transfer." "Funny. But don't blame me if everyone hates you." "And why would anyone hate me?" "I can start some pretty nasty rumors. You wouldn't want to wake up one morning and," he leaned closer to whisper in her ear. "Find that nobody will talk to you because I've spread some nasty gossip about you being, oh, I don't know, maybe a slut, or some other lovely little thing." She looked at him and laughed. "You're a bastard piece of shit, you know that?" She laughed at his angered expressing. "Why should I care? You tell people I'm a slut; if people believe you, then I just feel sorry for them. Gullible bastards, aren't they?" She turned her attention to the teacher as he began the roll call, leaving Malfoy looking flustered. From the corner of her eye, she could see Harry smiling at her. Turning slightly, she winked at him. "Fiona Black." Professor Snape paused at her name, glancing around for her. She raised her hand slightly, nonchalantly. His eyes locked on her, and he seemed about to say something, then thought better of it. He finished the rest of the list quickly, then went on in his cold voice to say that he hoped none of the fools had lost anymore brain cells over the summer, because they didn't have them to spare. Fiona would have laughed if she hadn't noticed that Snape seemed to direct the comment - cruelly - at the Gryffindors. She frowned a little, seeing this, even as the rest of her House laughed it up. "We're starting straight off. No wasting time on things we've done. Today you learn how to brew a truth potion. The ingredients are written on the board. You'll find the recipe on page thirty-one in your textbooks. At the end of class, we will be testing your elixirs." "Perhaps it would be better if we just purposefully got it wrong," Ron muttered to Harry. Fiona pulled her cauldron out, along with her ingredients and textbook. Turning to the specified page, she started to make the potion, not even bothering to think of any precautions. As the end of class neared, Snape started to test the potions. Each student would have a teaspoon of their potion, and then Snape would ask them a question. Most were simple, though towards some, mainly Gryffindors, he would ask ruder, more uncomfortable questions. When he came to the back of the room, he paused in front of Fiona. His eyes glinted as the question he had been dieing to ask her came to mind. It came out in a soft whisper-like voice. "Tell me, Miss Black, is Sirius Black your father?" Fiona opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out. Her jaw clenched, and she seemed to be fighting with herself, trying not to reply. A choking noise came through her throat. "Tell me!" Snape hissed. Fiona licked her lips, then opened her mouth again. "Yes," came the whispered response. The teacher smirked triumphantly. He lowered his voice, speaking so softly that no one but the back row could hear him. "And do you, at this moment, know where he is hide-" "Leave her alone." Harry had stood up, his face livid, his eyes holding an emotion close to fear. Fiona glanced at him, thanks clear in her eyes. "Sit down, Potter." Snape's voice was dangerous. "Leave her alone. You have no right to be asking her that." "Both of you will stay after class." Snape hissed. He walked back to the front of the room, and assigned homework, leaving half the class wondering what had gone on in the back row. Fiona and Harry both glared at Snape, hate vivid in their eyes. Harry felt a fool. Sirius had warned him against this very thing. He should have told Fiona to get it wrong. Now she would have to keep her guard up. Ruefully, Harry remembered a time the previous year, when the Potions teacher had threatened to let his hand accidentally slip into Harry's goblet a powerful truth potion, and find out what Harry was hiding. He had been worried for a while that Snape would do just that; and Potter knew how much the man hated his godfather. He hated to think what Snape would do in order to turn him in, despite the fact that they had 'made up' the year prior. Class ended, and Harry and Fiona packed up slowly, waiting for those from both their Houses to leave. Malfoy watched her oddly as he left. Fiona stood up, shook a red and black piece of hair out of her face, glanced at Harry, and strode up to the front of the room to see what Snape had to say. 


	7. Chapter Seven

"Ten points from Gryffindor for insolence," Snape snarled at Harry. The young man glared daggers at his elder, but kept his mouth shut. "You are dismissed." Harry turned on his heel, and strode out of the classroom, heading for his next class. Snape watched him go. Once assured that the boy was gone, he turned to Fiona, a malicious look on his face. She returned it coolly, refusing to give in to apprehension. "As for you." He said. Fiona couldn't interpret the tone of his voice. "You're lucky. If this had been only a year ago, I would have turned you over to the Minister." He stared at her for a long moment, and Fiona shifted her weight, becoming uncomfortable under his thoughtful regard. "The one thing I don't understand is why you were sorted into Slytherin." He said to himself. Blinking, he shook his head slightly, dismissing her. She walked away, shoulders hunched. She could feel his eyes on her back. The rest of the day passed relatively well. Nothing special happened, though she did notice Malfoy watching her strangely. It was disconcerting; it was the reason she hadn't wanted people to know who her father was. Damn Snape! Why did he have to ask such personal questions? He had no right do ask what he did. No right at all. Fiona sighed. At least the Quidditch tryouts weren't far off. 


	8. Chapter Eight

By the day of the tryouts, Fiona was ready to just grab her broom and beat someone over the head with it. News had obviously gotten out that she was Sirius Black's daughter. The reaction wasn't good. It seemed that only Harry, Hermione and Ron would talk to her; and she only saw them twice a week. Other than them, there were so many people in the school she wanted to hurt that she couldn't keep track. It wasn't her fault that her father had gotten drunk one night and decided to have fun with a bargirl. It wasn't her fault that that bargirl had been impregnated. And it wasn't her fault that she had been born. She'd had no say in the matter. It wasn't fair. But there were the tryouts. And that meant a chance to get back at Malfoy. She had no doubt that it had been him who spread word of what had happened in Potions that day. It was on Sunday. Those willing to tryout had to be on the field at the times each House was assigned. Slytherin's turn was in the afternoon. Fiona strode onto the Quidditch field, black robes billowing out behind her as she walked, gleaming Falca in hand. She was aware of the team's players all staring at her as she walked. She was the only one there trying out. Slytherin's team had planned to use the time to fly around at their leisure. A hopeful hadn't been expected. "Oiy, what're you doing out here?" The new team captain called. His name was Jack Young. He was only in his sixth year, but was told to be an excellent flier. Supposedly, at least. "Trying out, fool." She said shortly. "So what do I have to do to make it onto this pathetic team?" The seven boys, most in their sixth or seventh year, stalked toward her, their hulking figures threatening. They formed a half circle around Fiona. Her cold expression changed not a whit. "What gives you the right to call us pathetic?" Young asked. "Well, let's see." Fiona said lazily. "When was the last time you won a game? No, wait, strike that; when was the last time you won without the other team losing by default? I thought so. So tell me what I have to do in order to try out for seeker, so we can all get on with our lives, and, maybe, start winning a few games!" She was angry. The week's frustration was being blown out on the fools of this team. Fiona took a deep breath. "Kindly direct me as to what I must do in order to try out for the position of seeker." "Leave." "Leave? I hardly think that's a way to judge your seekers." Malfoy stepped up. "Get out of here. Do you see any girls on this team? Besides, I'm the seeker here. And you're not going to be able to replace me." "No? I think you should test that statement. What do you say, Draco? A race around the stadium? Or shall we let the snitch free and see who can catch it first?" "This might be interesting," Young said. "Why not try it out?" Malfoy looked at his captain in disgust. "You aren't serious, are you? Me? Against a girl?" Fiona's eyes narrowed. She took a step closer to Malfoy, brining them very close together. "I'm sorry, boy, but do you have a problem with women?" Malfoy looked her up and down. "Women, no. I don't have a problem with women." He licked his lips, then met her maliciously gleaming eyes. "Women who think they can play Quidditch better then men, yes. I do have a problem with them." Fiona smirked. "The you shouldn't have a problem having a contest against me. After all, the big strong man can beat the small weak girl, right?" "Exactly." "You piece of shit, just get on your damn broom. Release the snitch." She turned to Young with this last remark, who held the ball box. He smiled a little, and opened the box, and setting free the snitch. 


	9. Chapter Nine

"Go!" Young sounded the start of the contest two minutes after the snitch had been set free. Immediately, Fiona rose on her broom, flying far above the stadium. With quick eyes, she scanned the air, then looked more closely. She could see Malfoy away and below her. Almost immediately, she spotted a glint of gold. Her eyes latched on to it, and she dove. Malfoy didn't even see her until she was less than a foot away. He dove as she caught it. Coming for a landing in front of the team, she placed the snitch in Young's hand. "Do I have the position?" She asked coolly. Young looked up at Malfoy. "Draco! Get down here." He told Malfoy to stay on the ground. Young and the other team members then flew up into the air for conference. The boy glared at her, hate plain in his face. The team came back down. "You're in, Fiona." Young said. She didn't question how he knew her name; she was all over the school by now. "What?!" Draco yelled, outraged. "You heard me. You suck. You never win us a game. We have to score enough points so that if the other team catches the snitch they still won't win. So you're out. Black's in." Fiona smiled sweetly at Malfoy as he stalked off the field. Then she turned back to Young. "So, when's the first practice?" 


	10. Chapter Ten

After the tryouts, Fiona met up with her Gryffindor friends. "Hullo, Fiona. How did the tryouts go?" Harry asked as the four met up outside. Her eyes glinted, and a slow grin spread across her face. "I suppose that depends on who you ask. Good, for me. But," She turned, and nodded toward Malfoy and his gaggle. "If you ask another, I doubt the answer would be the same." She waited for all of their laughter to subside before she looked pointedly at Harry again. "I suggest you be wary next week. You might not win the cup this year." She erased the sound of a threat in her voice with a smile and a wink. "Well, that depends. I still haven't seen you fly." Fiona smiled wickedly. "Well I suppose you'll see next week then, won't you?" For next week was the first Quidditch game of the school year, and it was between Gryffindor and Slytherin. "S'pose I will." They grinned at each other, but there was electricity in there eyes as they met. Only one team could come out the victor, and it was that what they both wanted. 


	11. Chapter Eleven

When news spread that Fiona - that the Hated Sirius Black's daughter - had made the Slytherin team, she was greeted with mixed feelings. Jack Young had boasted that she was spectacular on a broom, and Slytherin was sure to win this year. Malfoy had started some counter gossip towards this rumor. He seemed to be taking his kick from the team badly. He told people that Fiona was a horrible flier; when people confronted her on this fact, she wouldn't answer. She would just give the questioner a wicked smile, or a rude glare, and wait till the person left. It wasn't long until the big Quidditch match came around. Everyone was excited. The rumors were enough to get even the least interested out in the stands. It was a beautiful day - perfect for flying. Cheers rang all throughout the crowd when the Gryffindor team walked onto the field. There was less applause when the Slytherin strode onto the field, proud in their silver and green robes. Fiona smiled a bit when Harry caught her eye from the other side of the field and gave her a thumbs up. She smiled and nodded back to him. If you had to play against your friend, there was no need to be rude about it. Madam Hooch was refereeing the game. Getting on her broom, she told the teams to mount up, and then released the balls. 


End file.
